She batted them away. “So that's what this is about? You just apologized because you want to fuck me again?”
He paused “That word doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth.” His tone was vaguely disapproving.
She let out a startled laugh. “Oh, really, Seth? Did I offend you?”
He cuddled her against his chest Her cheek scraped against the wool of his sweater. “Never mind,” he muttered. “Come back here.”
“How long have you been here?” she asked him.
“Since about twelve-thirty.”
'Two hours?” She struggled into a sitting position, startled.
He shrugged, rubbing the wisps at the end of her braid against his cheek. “Yeah. What of it? God, your hair is soft.”
She tried to pull her braid away from him, but he kept a tight, jealous grip on it “Why didn't you just... come to the door?”
He sniffed her braid. “I figured you'd tell me to fuck off again. You were royally pissed with me, and it is the middle of the night, after all.”
“So why?” she persisted. “Why stay out here in the dark?”
“Why not? Why does anybody do anything? Do I have to have a reason? I felt bad. I wanted to be near you. Maybe I wanted to do penance, or something weird like that.”
“Penance,” she repeated. Her lips began to twitch. “If it's penance, then it's not enough.”
“What would be enough?”
She pushed at his chest and twisted until she was perched on his lap facing him. “Let me think about it for a while.”
He snorted. “Bad idea. Don't think, Raine.”
“Yes, it would be awfully convenient for you if I didn't, wouldn't it?” she said. “Too bad my brain doesn't have an off switch.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes unreadable pools of shadow. He slid his hands under the hem of her shirt. “Do you know how sexy you are in that jogging stuff?”
“Oh, please,” she snapped. “Don't even. You can't distract me with cheap flattery like that, not after you —”
“Yeah, I know,” he cut in. “I'm a rude son-of-a-bitch, we've established that. Let's move on. I'd rather talk about how soft your skin is underneath this shirt. How I want to slide my hand in, and touch your belly ... like this. God, so soft. Like flower petals. I've never felt anything like it I could pet you for hours and never get bored.”
The lazy caress made sweet shivers race across her skin. With the rough hunger in his voice and a few simple words, he created images in her head, unleashed sensations in her body; and melded them seamlessly together into a promise of pleasure that was seductive and voluptuous and sweet. She had told him that her brain didn't have an off switch, but she had lied. It did. He had found it. And he knew it.
“You are dangerous, Seth Mackey,” she whispered.
He pushed a wisp of hair out from her mouth and dropped a light, butterfly kiss on her jaw. “Maybe.” He tasted her lips again, and then deeper and hungrier, his lips seeking and coaxing, then demanding.
She turned her face away from his kiss, her heart pounding. “You're not a nice man.”
“No,” he agreed calmly. “I never pretended to be.”
“I should have picked somebody tame to experiment with,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I'm out of my depth with you.”
He nuzzled the side of her face. “Too bad, sweetheart,” he muttered. “You picked me, and you hooked me. Now you've got to deal with me, whether you like it or not. I'm not easy to get rid of.” He cupped her face in his hand, the rough, callused spots scraping lightly against her skin as he explored the contours of her cheekbone. “How much experimenting have you done?”
“Hmm?” She was muddled and distracted by his caresses.
“You said you should have picked someone tamer than me. What does that mean? How much sexual experimenting have you done?”
He smoothed her hip, and she jerked as his fingers feathered along the cleft of her bottom, tickling and teasing. She forced herself to concentrate. “Urn, not a lot,” she admitted.
“How much exactly? Be honest. If you're lying, I'll know.”
His fierce attention made her feel hunted. “That's really none of your business.”
“That's where you're dead wrong. Since yesterday, everything about you is my business.”
She tried to think of a response to that outrageous statement. Nothing forceful came to mind, just a sense that she'd best choose her battles with him very carefully. He had enormous charisma and stamina, and she was too vulnerable and depleted to oppose him.
She might as well let him win this one. At least on this front, she had nothing to hide. Indeed, she had practically nothing to tell.
She let out a long, slow sigh. “Just the one time,” she offered.
His body went extremely still. “One time?”
She winced at the ugly memory. “Yes. In Paris. I was sick of being a virgin, so I decided to—”
“How old were you?”
She lost her train of thought, and flailed for a moment. “Oh, twenty-four, I guess. Almost twenty-five. It was a little over three years ago. I was at the Louvre, and I ran into this man that I knew—”
“Jesus. Twenty-four.” He sounded almost horrified.
“You were the one who said you wanted to hear this,” she snapped.
“Go on, go on. I won't interrupt you again,” he assured her.
“Anyhow, I ran into this man I knew, and, well, he seemed nice. Kind of dull, but pleasant. And safe, I guess. He was in Paris on business. We had dinner, and I decided it was time. So I let him escort me back to my flat.”
“And?” he prompted.
She winced again. “And what? I let him—well, we, um, did it”
“And?”
Her face was burning. “God, don't you ever let up?”
“Never,” he said calmly. “Tell me.”
“Well, it was terrible.” The words burst out of her in an embarrassed little rush.
Seth was eloquently silent. “What constitutes terrible?” he asked. His voice sounded deeply curious.
“Oh, please—”
“Just tell me, so I won't ever do it to you.”
She laughed, but it felt more like a sob. “You couldn't. It was over in less than a minute, and it hurt. He—he ran out on me while I was washing up. I came out of the bathroom and he was gone.”
He hissed in disgust. “What a prick!”
She smiled at the fury in his voice. “I'm over it.”
“No foreplay, no petting, no oral sex, no nothing?”
She blushed even hotter. “Seth, please—”
“Don't be prissy,” he snapped.
She sighed. “He couldn't wait. He just wanted to ... you know.”
“Yeah, I do know. And how. But that's no excuse for botching your first time. Jesus. What a flaming asshole.”
She kissed his forehead, touched by the genuine outrage in his voice. “It's all right,” she whispered. “The second time made up for it.”
He pulled her close, in a fierce, possessive grip. Raine let her head fall back with a soft sigh of pleasure as he nuzzled her neck. “What’s the bastard's name?”
She froze as his question sank in. “Why do you want to know?”
“Want me to kill him for you?” His voice was supremely casual.
A cold fist clamped around her stomach. “Not funny, Seth.”
“Whoops. Sorry. How about some broken bones? Ribs, kneecaps, fingers?” His teem flashed in the dimness.
